Why you should not fly
by mixtrut
Summary: A corrupt man name John Flyer invents something called the "Flying Watch". He has sent out robot terminators to kill some undesirables. There is a secret love relationship that could overthrow the whole plan, will John Flyer destroy them? Warning: Explicit Language used throughout.


Flying. It is a very evil thing, all the suffering it caused towards humanity in the past and all the grief that it still causes in the present. Birds were designed to fly, bats were designed to fly also. However, humanity was not. The evil John Flyer caused the deaths of the outcasts of the world in one present and another. This all started in February 2012 when John Flyer announced on public television he had rightfully invented the flying watch.

I was sitting, staring at the TV like a hawk watching it's pray. Most other people would of probably been the same way as people would have most likely to believe anything he said, just like any other average citizen. John Flyer had such an extraordinary talent. He could easily manipulate people to believe anything he said with just the click of his voice, his look; his posture all contributed to this amazing talent of his. Away from talent and everything like that, John Flyer was sitting on the BBC Breakfast sofa in the upmost priced garments. His overcoat glistened in the light, making people adore him and adhere his word. He wore black rimmed glasses which were worn in such a way that the normal man would fall for his deadly tricks. He had extremely dark brown eyes, which was a unique glare, who could manipulate anyone to his fatal regime. His head was featureless, like a towering pile of meat with no hitches, just right to ceasing people's minds. He was as strong as a bull, could pull a lorry with not much effort. That is why he is so terrifying and few were afraid to challenge his power and authority. All of this made him the right canditate to become the leader of the UK easily, he was born for that kind of job.

Then the man suddenly announced, "One and all out there. I introduce my prototype of my new and incredible Flying Watch. This will be your future and my future, so much good will come from these devices".

The BBC Breakfast presenter asked the towering man, "When do you intend to release your amazing invention to the world?"

John Flyer replied with intimidation, "This September. I will release my brilliant watch out to 54 million of you in the UK. The 11 million others will become outcasts".

The presenter asked, "What are Outcasts?"

John Flyer shouted, "That is very private information. I cannot fucking tell you as the word just tells you anyway, figure it out people".

I was shocked at the man's talent. He had the power to influence a nation, such as this one. I got up from the living room floor and ran towards the door as fast as I possibly could, I quickly grabbed my things and ran out the door with my brother Peter. The both of us were actually scared of the towering man on the TV.

I murmured to Peter, "The guy on the TV is so scary, I couldn't bear to even look him".

Peter replied, "Never mind that, our schoolmates hate us anyway, that is even worse than some random guy on the TV". I sighed to myself in disbelief as most of the way through Secondary School I had been hated by nearly everyone, this could be the end of me as I knew it. This sign of belief was brief as we boarded the bus with caution. We paid our fare and then walked to our seats slowly. There were many pairs of eyes staring at me and Peter in disgust, the young community were slowly waiting for us. I didn't say a word. Neither did Peter, we just sat there motionless staring out the window like there was forever to serve. The both of us were just watching the world go by.

Finally one of the many teenagers sitting on the bus came up to me and shoved me into Peter with no sympathy whatsoever. The small, blacked haired kid then attempted to punch me in the face as I was dirt.

The heartless teenager exclaimed, "Hey fucking shit head, how about you fuck off to your little friends and never come back on this bus".

For a moment I just ignored him, I looked around the bus with many eyes staring at me, I knew I had to do something about this teenager harassing me and Peter. Well really he was only harassing me not Peter. The kid then vamped up his harassment on me. He attempted to shove me to the ground, I got up and moved myself out the way of the oncoming shoves. The teenager I then finally recognised as Immanuel Smith, but many people just called him Immi. Immi was a short, black haired monster who is very tough to beat. His cannabis smelling breath was enough to put anyone off. The little pile of meat starting lunging punches at me, I was taking them like a man. After a few punches, he starting attacking Peter as well, this was getting me enraged.

Immi suddenly said, "Hey, there's nothing you can do about it. Your little brother is just a pile of shit, that's all he'll ever be just like you".

The statement made me have to stand up for myself. I replied to him in rage, "Shut up you damn bastard! No one picks on my brother and get's away with it". Everyone on the bus starting shouting "Fight" over and over. I didn't want to pick a fight with him but I knew what I had to do. I slowly clenched my fists up and got ready to do the inevitable. My fist suddenly lunged outwards and gathered power as I put it towards the target. Immi was not looking as he was too busy with Peter, Immi put his hand up and suddenly my fist wacked him in the back of the head. He fell flat on his face, directly to the floor like a unresponsive person.

Everyone on the bus fell into shock after what had happened. Just after, everyone eyes lit up in pure rage over what I had to done to the ruthless bully who had bullied me for so long. I told Peter, "Come on, we have to get off this bus right now".

Peter replied, "Good idea, there gonna hate us".

We quickly departed the bus and ran out of the Town Centre then quickly onto the school where I was studying at the time. All the teenagers ran off the bus, chasing after us in anger. The 50 odd teenagers that were chasing after us because of Immi starting throwing ruthless objects at me and Peter. It was like a army of men trying to eat our souls. We ran at lighting speed up the hill, but that still wasn't enough to doubt what was going on. We quickly entered the school with the teenagers still on our backs.

I warned Peter, "We have to hide, quickly! They will find us and beat us to shreds".

A teacher asked us in a confused way, "What are you two doing over there?"

I suddenly tripped over a random black wire placed oddly in the middle of the path. The wire was peculiarly leading into the dirt in the ground. Since the school was on a hill, something could have easily been a bunker there. I followed the black wire into the ground and there was a secret door hidden among the vast grass field just there. With mine and Peter's effort, we managed to yank the mini door, this revealed a hidden bunker.

This was incredible. I finally found the bunker I had been looking for nearly a year. I quickly hopped in along with Peter. Both of us yanked the lid shut with not much effort. Just after, the angry mob that were viciously trying to destroy us before ran over the bunker lid like it wasn't even there. Both of us slowly and cautiously descended into the deep, darkening abyss. Down about 10 metres we hid solid ground. I hit my hand on what seemed to be a light switch. I flicked it. Then the room suddenly lit up in flames. I thought at first the room was set on fire, it turns out the lights hadn't been turned on for nearly 50 years. When the lights finally dimmed down, it came to reveal an abandoned pile of mess.

I exclaimed in celebration, "Yes, we finally found the legendary bunker that we found rumored to exist. Now we're gonna be so popular, just return to our normal lives".

Peter replied, "I wouldn't be so sure".

I asked him in disgust, "What do you mean? We found the whole school has been searching for nearly a year. Ever since John Flyer told it existed, he said he'd give a reward out to whoever found it".

Peter retorted, "Well, this bunker has already been found by someone else previously". Both me and Peter turned around slowly to find a mark that one of my class mates had already found this bunker. There was a message on the wall saying, To whoever reads this message, I have found this bunker already. You have fucking been beaten to it you idiots. Now don't even bother returning to this bunker, it has already been claimed. From your overlord, Luca.

I just fell to my knees. I then fell flat on my face in disappointment, all this work I had spent trying to find this bunker was completely worthless to me. Nothing could of been more disappointing in my whole life, nothing. Peter just stared at the wall, motionless. He knew that we had to find this bunker first. The return to power was now hopeless, long forgotten. This quickly changed my emotion as I had nothing to lose whatsoever. This had just made me break down into tears, as some evil brat had taken our hope and glory away from 2 innocent young people. But who? Who would be so evil to take away someone's hopes and dreams? This person was that bastard Luca, he was the one responsible for my downfall in the first place. I knew right then I had to track him down and beat him, it's what he deserved.

I wailed in disappointment, "Why?! How could that bastard do this to us".

Peter replied to me reassuringly, "Don't worry, it couldn't get any worse. Then suddenly I heard a key turn on the surface. I heard a voice up there, it was familiar. It was Luca!

Luca shouted, "You two will never make it out of there now".

Peter said to himself, "I retract my former statement. It could get worse, a lot worse actually". I broke down into a fit of rage right then. I started wrecking the message and tore the whole thing to shreds. My eyes lit up in rage. Then the inevitable came upon me. I starting to wreck the room like an unstoppable bulldozer. I ran about the room wrecking things as I went along, everything was not left out of my rage. I threw a computer on the floor and started wacking the machine with a mallet. My rage had no end in sight.

I suddenly got up and exclaimed in anger, "Curse you Luca. I will destroy you and your friends forever. This is not over yet you little bastard".

Peter slapped me, "Snap out of it, why are you breaking down? We will make it out of here alright, we just need to find a way".

I got up and started thrashing about still. I then heard a buzzing sound coming from the door. I asked in rage, "What the fuck is that?!"

Peter replied sternly, "Relax, it is nothing significant. What harm can it do?"

I got up and threw myself on one of the many beds in the evil room. I stayed in a fixed position murmuring to myself. I started get louder and louder expressing my ideas to the world. I knew beyond that the flying regime was going to become evil as the intimidation John Flyer managed to inflict was so terrifying, he could easily just turn rogue.

Meanwhile somewhere on the surface, somewhere in London; there was a man standing outside the BBC Breakfast studio. The man rose up from his rest and starting walking towards the studio like a never ending bulldozer coming for someone. The man slowly lifted a rifle of some kind from his belt of terror. As he slowly climbed some stairs the tension just grew and grew. Something was not right, it was like I knew the man. Fortunately, I didn't know this man of pure destruction. This man loaded his brown, evil rifle with his destructive gold bullets. This sign of pure madness was against one man and one man only. The tall, slightly disturbed man entered the studio just as they ended broadcasting and just stood in the doorway. The man slowly looked up at John Flyer on the sofa and loaded a bullet into his gun behind his back.

The man told the room, "Hey you all, guess what?! Eat lead bitches".

The crazy man pointed his gun at John Flyer's head and attempted to shoot the seemingly innocent man. John Flyer dodged the attack with anticipation, suddenly everyone in the studio got on the ground in disbelief they were going to live. John Flyer starts walking towards the man and get's his own gun from his briefcase. The man continuously fires bullets at John Flyer's center, however his bulletproof vest was resistant to even a 12 gauge shotgun. All during the process that John Flyer loaded his gun and was being shot as most people would have died by this point. John Flyer finishes loaded his gun and suddenly points the gun at the mans head and the crazy man goes into retreat like a frightened child on Halloween. Everyone in the BBC Breakfast studio got up in a massive state of shock, all of them felt shivered right to the bone. John Flyer walked so fast towards the man that the mans running was even slower than his walking. The flying maser started opening fire on the man in hoods and rags, the man suddenly fell to the floor and fainted as one bullet had somehow traveled from John Flyer's futuristic gun and into the mans back and killed him right on the spot. The pure power in John Flyer was so great, it was enough to kill anyone right on the spot. This proves the power that one man can have. This sudden high for John Flyer somehow converted him from a regular businessman with a crazy idea to a national icon. Away from all this hero stuff, John Flyer was recognised as a hero throughout the entire BBC studio. John Flyer just stared at the body like it was nothing, he heartlessly got his gun out again and shot the body multiple times again and again. All of the BBC crew cheered in gratefulness for the man who was going to cause so much suffering in the future. Immediately, a camera crew came right to the scene and put this directly onto national television. In this way, John Flyer was recognised to be a national hero.

The BBC news presenter asked John Flyer in recognition, "Thankyou so much. Why did you do this?"

John Flyer replied assertively, "It's for the greater good for British society you know. People like this are just rotten scumbags who want to ruthlessly kill people. If I hadn't of killed him, he would of murdered everyone in this great building. This just makes sense to have a little common decency for others, just one great event in your life can make you a national icon. Now grateful ones, embrace life to the max!" Still half an hour later they were cheering in delight for this undercover villain. That day was a whole lode of heaven for most or new adoring fans in the UK and around the world. All the camera crews gathered around him for hours and hours that day. Eventually John Flyer was at breaking point, he could not take this constant harassment over something "good" he did.

John Flyer screamed with intimidation, "Get the fucking cameras out of my face!"

Everyone around him then just stepped out like he was in power. Everyone ran away from him like he was predator and the people were the prey. Some people fainted in fear at his feet. All or most of it was captured on TV so most likely some of the country had run and hidden in fear or fainted from it. Luckily I hadn't seen that broadcast since I was locked up in the bunker.

Since most of the country was distracted with being knocked out in fear, I could finally focus on escaping. Meanwhile John Flyer was getting into his upmost priced Rolls Royce to go back to his old home located on the pristine manor of Knebworth House. The driver let John Flyer into the back of the limo with a cushion for each of the steps into the car. He entered the car with caution glaring around with intimidation as no one in the world would be even remotely tempted to steal the car. The bulging man stepped into the pristine car. Inside the car was cleaned right down to the engine block, the car was so clean you could literally see your face in the outside of the car even though the limo is black. Inside there was leather upholstered seats cleverly adjusted for the upmost comfort possible. The whole interior was filled with items of the upmost price, all colored purple and black. There was a massive plasma TV embedded in the bottom of the limo. The driver wore a suit tailored to a butler of upmost service to someone. Suddenly, the pristine limbo drives off with a man guarding John Flyer. The both of the men cautiously drove back to John Flyer's huge mansion were all the main operations of John Flyer occurred. As the man behind the operations stepped out, all of his maids and other slave workers got down on their knees. John Flyer was literally a king where he was from. He walked with such pace into his mansion looking forward to continue his evil operations.

One of the maids asked him, "Do you want a drink sir?"

The man replied, "Get me a fucking beer you bitch!"

The maid murmured in fear, "Yes sir, right away sir".

John Flyer then entered his secret lair under the ground. The man secretly entered his code and descended into the lightened cage below the manor. The lift slowly hoisted him down to his secret factory and picking facility where about 3000 people were working flat out picking the outcasts out of the fliers. The mass operation involved many watchers with guns pointing at the poor pickers, 80% of which were just dragged off the streets and forced to work in the hostile conditions with no pay whatsoever. It was like a mix up of the slave age and the sweat shops that you find in Eastern Asia. There was a massive pile of photos and the workers had 2 bins, one of the fliers and one for the outcasts. The workers had to endure 14 hour days and work every day until they had gone through their share of the photos they sorted out. John Flyer sat on what seemed to be a royal throne as he would personally watch over his poor, starving workers. He was watching all of his slaves like a hawk watching their pray. Many of the workers broke down from all the work they had to do, also due to the dreaded "crime" stamp on some 1 million of the photos. The workers would break down as they know family members in the future would go through so much suffering. Despite everything that John Flyer put against them, the workers would still battle on as they know they would be shot if they stopped, even for a second. One after another, some of the workers were being shot and new replacements were coming in, some were just being fired and being kicked off the grounds forever. They were who unwillingly volunteered. The hostile conditions were just unbearable of most people, but no matter what; one man battled through it all.

This man's name was Rick Ambrose. This man was one of the most amazing people I had ever met in my whole lifetime. A selfless man who would battle onto the end no matter what the cause. Rick was a fairly tall man with not a hair on the very top of his head. His gray, short hair on the sides of his head were glistening in the light. He had a laugh, so unique anyone would laugh along with him. He had great brown eyes, with the occasional chance you might catch him with his reading glasses on. Away from the great side of him, he was in hard times. Beyond 2010, he had lost his job as he had worked for Boeing before then. He fell into a state of depression until a job came up. This job was for the flying company, John Flyer hired him to attach one of the parts of the flying watch. Then he turned against the regime but still pretended to be for it up until now.

Rick was sorting through all the photos at break neck pace until he suddenly grounded to a halt when he came across mine and Peter's photos.

Rick murmured to himself, "That is not right, I have to save these guys".

Rick attempted to save us from total destruction by attempting to put our pictures in the fliers box. Unfortunately, Rick was seen by one of the many watchers. Rick stared into the watchers heartless eyes with pity. None of John Flyer's men feel pity or sorrow for anyone.

The watcher suddenly called out, "Hey you down there, incorrectly sorted the photos into the boxes. Go to John Flyer you little fucker".

John Flyer stared at Rick in disgust in what he had done. The heartless man stared at Rick and screamed at him, "Come here now you fucking bastard". Rick walked up there very slowly and with a lot of caution. He still knew the inevitable was coming upon him, Rick had realised he had violated the rules. John Flyer still didn't break the news easily though.

John Flyer shouted in rage, "Rick, bastard! You attempted to protect 2 criminals from being outcasts, now you're discharged from this position. You will no longer work for me, now get lost Rick. You're now fired forever!" This statement caused Rick to break down in a emotional wreck. It was not due to the intimidation involved, it was the fact that he had lost his only job and his only hope of recovery. The 2 guards dragged him out the room with Rick thrashing and throbbing everywhere.

Rick shouted, "This is not the end John Flyer, I will have my revenge on you. I will rise up against you and your evil regime, you will not live. I will fight and fight, no matter how long it takes to make you fall; I will still defeat you". John Flyer did not even budge from this statement whatsoever. His posture and emotion didn't even move. His emotionless face told Rick nothing. The guards threw him out on the door step of the vast mansion with nothing to lose.

Rick screamed in rage, "This regime is evil and so are you John Flyer. All of your workers don't deserve to be here". The mansion shut up it's doors to Rick. Rick stared at the mansion at rage and then turned away from the evil building. He pointed back at the mansion in rage and started slowly walking away from the mansion. He slowly picked up the pace and eventually started running away from the grounds as he saw armed men pointing guns directly at him,

Rick murmured to himself, "What the hell am I going to do now? No money and no prospects, nothing to do. The evil flying company is going to rise eventually".

Rick continued to run away from the mansion with fear of his life. No person should feel threatened for their lives at their jobs, no wonder Rick ran away from his job that day.

The day slowly went on uninterrupted as he walked slowly back to his home in Hemel Hempstead, the tension grew between Rick and the surrounding world. Somewhere on the route home, Rick started to break down into a fit of a rage presiding over what had just happened. He dived out into the road and just layed their still, motionless; waiting there to get killed. There wasn't much emotion on Rick's face. He just layed there motionless, he slowly shut his eyes with the thoughts of suicide. Rick knew he was hopelessly doomed to fail life anyway. He thought to himself what is the point of living now. The end of Rick was looking near. Hopeless as it was, a car came along.


End file.
